Sleep is Overrated
by Ange de Socrates
Summary: The latest we-killed-Voldemort-HURRAH party has finally gotten on Hermione's last nerve. Who can provide this poor, exhausted witch the rest and relaxation she so desperately craves? SB/HG
1. The Beginnings of Sleep Deprivation

_Sleep is Overrated_

By Ange de Socrates

**Disclaimer:** J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., et al own Harry Potter. My deluded imagination and babbling are my own. I get no money for writing this, obviously.

_**WARNING: Rated M for a reason!**_

_Chapter One – The Beginnings of Sleep Deprivation_

* * *

Hermione yawned, the reflex temporarily supplanting the aggravated frown on her face. She had been locked out of her room by a horny Weasley twin and his paramour of the night, and all she wanted to do, more than anything else in the world, was sleep.

These Order parties were beginning to get way out of hand.

It had started with Voldemort's death. Naturally, the members of the Order of the Phoenix had wanted to celebrate the downfall of a villain whom they had been trying to defeat for decades, and the party had gone on for a week. Even a one-month and two-month anniversary celebration hadn't bothered Hermione, though she would have preferred a bit of peace and quiet in which to complete the coursework she had missed in her seventh year.

But it was today's gala, a Two-Hundred-Forty-Seven-Days-And-Thirteen-Hours-Since-We-Whacked-Voldemort party, which had finally severed her last remaining nerve.

"I swear to Merlin, Fred, if you don't get out of my room immediately, I'll use your bollocks as dice for my rearview mirror!" Hermione hissed in as threatening a tone as she could muster, pounding on the door and fiddling with the handle.

The only reply was a low tone that she was sure was mocking her and a high-pitched giggle from the flavor of the week.

Hermione growled fiercely and tromped down the hallway to the stairs, where she sat morosely on the top step. Exhausted, she rested her head on the banister and sighed.

"Why me?" she moaned, her eyes fluttering as she fought to stay awake long enough to figure out how best to remove Fred's testicles.

Hermione slid off the step she was perched on as she nodded off, landing ungracefully two steps down with a painful thud, which could barely be heard over the din of the party going on downstairs.

_The library,_ she thought. _I could get some rest on the couch, I suppose._ Surely the party hadn't spread into what was, in her opinion, the most sacred room in 12 Grimmauld Place.

Rubbing the spot on her back that had smacked into the lip of the step she had landed on, Hermione got to her feet gingerly and made her way downstairs.

Laughter and loud music could be heard down the hall, where the witch was certain the alcohol was flowing freely. She stood where she was and listened, trying to gauge whether the footsteps she heard were coming toward her from the basement kitchen or from upstairs. They soon faded away, and Hermione let go of the breath she was holding and continued down the corridor.

Hermione made it to the library without encountering any tipsy partygoers and found it blissfully empty. She smiled contentedly and shut the door softly behind her.

The sofa in the library looked more inviting to Hermione than any bed ever had before. She made her way over to it and curled up on the brown suede cushions, letting her eyes fall shut the second her head hit the couch pillow.

She slept for about twenty seconds before her slumber was rudely interrupted by the door being flung open. The witch sat bolt upright to reprimand whoever it was, and found herself face to face with Sirius Black.

Hermione was just about to tell him off for interrupting her much-desired beauty sleep when he crushed his lips to hers in a needy kiss. She squeaked a bit, not sure whether to push him off or pull him closer in her sleepy state, but found herself enjoying it more by the moment.

_Well, who'd've thought it? Sirius Black definitely knows how to use his tongue. Mmmm, delicious… Wait, what's that hand doing? What are YOU doing?!_

The witch pushed Sirius' chest away from her, simultaneously detaching his right hand from its position between her thighs. It was then, after the immediate shock wore off, that she smelled the alcohol.

"You're pissed," she said matter-of-factly, unable to quell the disappointment that suddenly reared its ugly head in the corner of her mind.

Sirius grinned. "Yes I am." He winked. "How else do you think I'd have gotten up the nerve to snog the living daylights out of the Gryffindor princess?"

Hermione pursed her lips in a mixture of irritation and amusement. Harry's godfather was definitely an attractive man, no question about it. However, he was still just that – Harry's godfather, and many years older than her. At least, he was older _physically _if not mentally.

"Look," she said, sighing. She hoped he was too drunk to really comprehend what she was about to say. "I'm not going to tell you I don't find you incredibly sexy, because the truth is, I do."

"Brilliant!" He leaned forward to continue with the previous merriment, but Hermione held him at arm's length.

"But the fact remains that you're my best friend's godfather. And that I am incredibly tired because no one in this dratted house can go for three seconds without throwing a bloody party!" She crossed her arms and pouted.

"I see." Sirius sat back on his haunches thoughtfully, only to fall flat on his arse. Hermione winced and tried to hide a righteous grin.

"Need help?"

"It's all right, I'm much more comfortable like this." He shifted so that he was sitting cross-legged. "Well, it looks like I can't convince you to enjoy the festivities, so I suppose I have no other choice but to be a gentleman and offer you my bed."

The witch looked at him suspiciously. "And I'm sure your intentions are absolutely noble, aren't they?"

Sirius tried, and failed, to look innocent. "Of course, m'lady."

At that moment, the door to the library opened with a crash, and a flailing mass of entwined limbs came hurtling toward the sofa. Hermione jumped up just in time to avoid a very intoxicated Harry and Ginny as they fell onto it, oblivious to anything and anyone around them. She bit her lip in agony as she surveyed the stacks of books around the couch, hoping the hormonal couple wouldn't disturb them.

Hermione raised an eyebrow at Sirius, who waited with a hopeful look on his face. She would honestly rather get some sleep than play chaperone to a couple of teenagers who were currently unaware of her existence, let alone her irritation at their disruption of her rest.

"Fine. Show me your bed."

She rolled her eyes both at the words coming out of her mouth and at the lecherous look that crossed Sirius' face.

"I thought you'd never ask."

Grabbing her hand, Sirius led the way out of the library and up past the house-elves mounted on the wall to the fourth floor of the house, which was strangely quiet.

"Why isn't anyone up here?" Hermione asked, looking up and down the corridor for any sign of randy couples.

Sirius shrugged. "Takes too much effort for a drunk person to climb three sets of stairs, I suppose." He tripped over the moth-bitten rug that ran down the length of the hall, and Hermione just barely caught his arm in time to keep him from falling back down the stairs.

"Yourself included," she panted as she struggled to keep him on his feet.

Without too much more difficulty, they made it to the last door on the left. Sirius turned the serpent-shaped handle and motioned for Hermione to go in.

It was a beautiful room, though the decor was a bit outdated. The dark cherry furniture had intricate scrolls carved along the legs, and the green- and silver-striped wallpaper was peeling at the edges. On a table against the wall was a lamp shaped like a coiled snake and a painting of a vast Gothic manor.

The bed, however, was glorious. Hermione looked at it hungrily, sleepiness once more setting into her bones and brain. Without waiting for an invitation, she walked over to it and kicked off her shoes, then crawled underneath the covers, chilled from exhaustion despite having on jeans and a cream-colored knit sweater.

As her eyes were closing and she fell into the place between sleep and consciousness, Hermione heard the door close gently and, a few moments later, felt the other side of the bed dip. It creaked as Sirius' weight settled on it, and Hermione realized that it was the only noise she could hear; the sounds of the party downstairs were drowned out completely up here.

Suddenly, for a reason her she couldn't quite ascertain, Hermione felt very awake. She rolled over to face Sirius, who she found was watching her intently. He reached out and brushed a stray curl out of her eyes. Her breath caught in her chest and she let her eyes fall shut.

"Still tired?" Sirius said in a low tone.

Hermione shook her head, opening her eyes once more. "Not one bit."

He had rolled her onto her back and was on top of her before she knew what was happening. _Damn. The man's got skill._ She stared up into his eyes for a moment, which were glazed over -- and not because of the alcohol.

"Sirius," she whispered. "If this is just a one-night stand..."

He leaned down with a smile and kissed her neck. "I don't have one-night stands with people I care so much about," he said as his lips grazed her earlobe.

"But you're drunk," Hermione said feebly, running out of reasons to protest.

"Just tipsy, love. Not drunk."

"Harry will--"

"--get over it," Sirius finished for her. "I've had my eye on you all summer, Hermione. Both eyes, actually." He met her suspicious eyes with his sincere ones. "Trust me."

Hermione thought quickly. Harry would get over it, surely, and Sirius had never been anything but trustworthy and a loyal friend -- he wouldn't hurt her. Would he? Plus, she had been so stressed of late, and sex certainly did wonders for easing one's troubles when in the hands of a professional. And Sirius certainly seemed to be a professional...

"Think of the possibilities," he whispered. "What if forever starts tonight?"

The witch blinked. Impossibly cheesy though it was, he was right. Why not see how this turned out? She bit her lip nervously, making up her mind, and then pulled his head down to hers in a heated kiss.

An hour later, Sirius rolled off the witch, his arms remaining wrapped around her torso. A tired smile formed on Hermione's face as he pulled her up against his chest and stroked her hair.

"You cuddle?"

Sirius kissed the top of her head. "That's the best part, love."

Hermione sighed happily, snuggling her head underneath his. Everything that was worrying her -- the twin's takeover of her bedroom, the seemingly insurmountable pile of coursework she had left -- no longer fazed her. "Can I sleep now?"

The wizard laughed softly. "Of course."

* * *

Hermione woke with an arm wrapped around her midriff, slightly confused as to how it got there and whose it was. And then she remembered.

"Bugger bugger bugger," she whispered, wondering if Sirius would be sober enough when he roused to realize what a horribly drunken mistake he had made. She gently wiggled herself free of his arm and slid to the floor, pulling on her jeans and sweater.

"And where do you think you're going?"

Hermione froze, her hand on the doorknob. "Well, I... I suppose back to my room."

Sirius stretched in all his naked glory, and Hermione almost blushed. "You'll do no such thing." He pointed at the now-empty spot next to him.

The witch giggled, feeling quite relieved, and crawled back into bed fully clothed, at which Sirius grunted unhappily.

"So why am I naked and you're not?"

"I'm just lucky, I suppose."

Sirius traced his hand over the curve of her waist and brought it to rest on her denim-clad hip. "We'll just have to remedy the situation after breakfast, then."

In a stroke of lusty inspiration, Hermione pushed Sirius sideways onto his back and rolled on top of him, feeling his reaction to her sudden change of position. She leaned down over him, her lips nearly touching his, and smirked as his breathing grew labored and his eyes became hooded.

"I'll see you in the kitchen," she said in a low voice, laughing as she rolled off the bed and walked to the door. A pillow narrowly missed her head as she closed it behind her.

Hermione made her way down the stairs to the second floor, where she slipped quietly into her bedroom, which had finally been vacated of any and all Weasley twins. Only Ginny remained inside, though from the suspiciously human-shaped bump lying next to her sleeping form, Hermione was fairly certain that Harry was in there as well.

The witch quietly rifled through the dresser to find a clean set of clothes and took them into the bathroom, changing quickly and brushing her teeth. She was absolutely starving after last night's festivities and quite eager to see what Mrs. Weasley had cooked up this morning for breakfast.

Hermione was halfway through her toast and eggs and in the middle of a riveting conversation about illegal dragon crossbreeding experimentation with Charlie when Sirius walked into the kitchen. She continued speaking as her eyes followed him to the stove, where he loaded his plate, and back to the table, where he seated himself directly across from her.

"I personally think the crossing of a Welsh Green with a Puffskein would be adorable," Hermione opined. "It'd be exactly the kind of dragon that Hagrid undoubtedly believes them all to be – cute and fluffy, but fanged."

Charlie laughed. "Actually, a scientist in Bulgaria attempted exactly that. His daughter wanted a pet dragon, and he decided he'd take a stab at a friendly, pink, puffy one."

"And?"

He shuddered. "He got a ferocious pink fluff-ball that breathed flames."

Sirius snorted as he buttered his toast.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "I bet Hagrid would pee himself if he had one of those."

Charlie chuckled, standing to take his plate to the sink. "He must've asked me a hundred times if I couldn't sneak an egg out of Romania for him. I guess since he's larger than most wizards, he just doesn't realize how big and dangerous they really are." He stretched and yawned loudly. "I'm going back to bed for a bit before I track down Mundungus. See you all later."

"Bye," Hermione called, spreading some jam on a piece of wheat toast. When she looked back at Sirius, she wasn't surprised to see him looking at her lasciviously.

"Sleep well?" he asked, a devilish gleam in his eye as he picked up his mug of coffee.

Hermione leaned forward with a grin. "Not a wink." She kicked off her right shoe and began to run her foot up Sirius' leg.

Sirius choked on his coffee, and Mrs. Weasley turned from the stove with a frown. "All right, dear?"

The wizard nodded, flustered, a tinge of red in his cheeks as he struggled for breath. "Fine thanks, it just went down the wrong pipe."

Hermione snickered, inching her leg farther up as she grabbed the _Prophet_ and flipped it to the classifieds, scanning each column quickly before turning to sport.

"Falmouth lost to Puddlemere," she commented off-handedly. "Looks like Wood's been performing spectacularly."

"Funny, mine's been doing pretty great as well," Sirius murmured, smiling inanely as Hermione's foot struck gold.

Hermione rolled her eyes and continued reading with a smirk.

A moment later, there was a loud clatter as Sirius jumped to his feet, nearly knocking his dish off the table.

"For heaven's sake!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "Are you quite well?"

Sirius plastered on a reassuring smile. "Of course, sorry Molly. I just completely forgot to feed Buckbeak this morning." He turned to Hermione, a hungry look in his eyes. "Want to come help, Hermione? I'm sure he'd love the female company."

The witch suppressed a giggle and nodded. "Sure, why not?" Slipping her shoe back on, she stood and took hers and Sirius' plates to the sink. "Thanks for breakfast Mrs. Weasley, it was delicious."

They had barely made it up the stairs to the main floor when Sirius pounced on Hermione, pushing her against the wall and kissing her fiercely. Hermione moaned and thrust her hips up to meet his.

And then realized they were in the open hallway.

Hermione looked around, picked a door, and pushed Sirius through it. She locked the door behind her and was whirled around by a strong set of hands.

Sirius kissed her again, fumbling madly with her knee-length skirt and ripping open her white blouse, buttons flying everywhere.

Hermione reached down and tugged at the zipper of his pants. With a low growl, Sirius literally tore off her panties and tossed them over his shoulder, scooting Hermione up on the wall and hitching her legs around his waist.

Sirius sucked on her collarbone as he began to thrust in and out. He hissed when he felt Hermione's nails digging into his back, feeling blood trickle down his spine. Licking his lips, he pressed his forehead against Hermione's and stared silently into her equally heated eyes.

Hermione came hard, shaking and biting Sirius' neck to stay silent as the shudders rocked her body. With a few more shallow thrusts, Sirius was coming silently inside Hermione.

After a moment, Sirius gently removed Hermione's legs from around his waist and set her back on the floor, wrapping one arm around her back to keep both of them from falling shakily to the floor. Hermione held him loosely around his waist, unsure if she could function properly yet.

"You're going to be addictive," Sirius finally said, his chest rising and falling heavily. "I can tell."

Hermione flashed him an exhausted smile. "And you're going to wear me out."

Sirius gave a barking laugh. "I'll certainly try." He kissed her forehead, and they lapsed back into silence.

Once both had caught their breath, they began to clean up. Hermione fixed her shirt and stuffed her torn panties into her waistband while Sirius smoothed out his hair and righted his pants. As he turned around to snatch a popped button off the floor, Hermione gasped and felt herself going red.

"Oh Merlin, I'm so sorry…"

Soaking through his shirt, Sirius had several lines of blood down his back where Hermione had clawed him. She rushed forward to do something about them, but Sirius stopped her with a grin.

"Souvenirs, love."

Hermione blushed deeper and gave him a sheepish smile. "I guess I got carried away."

"I think I like it when you get carried away." Sirius winked. "Say, what are you up to today?"

Hermione thought for a moment. "Probably a bit more schoolwork, help Ron and Harry with theirs as well… And Ginny said something about going shopping."

Sirius frowned thoughtfully, observing the ceiling tiles as he mulled over her words. "Keep tonight free, will you?"

The witch smiled. "Absolutely."

Checking once more to make sure clothes were intact, Hermione and Sirius walked back out into the corridor, which was beginning to fill up with the sound of late risers.

"See you later," Hermione said in a low tone, placing a ghost of a kiss on his lips.

As Hermione headed up the stairs, Remus came down them, yawning loudly.

"Morning Hermione," he greeted sleepily. "Have you seen Sirius?"

Hermione feigned deep concentration. "I saw him at breakfast, but he left the table before I was finished. I'm sure he's around here some… What?"

Remus was giving her an odd look. "Are you getting a rash?" He pointed at several red spots on her upper chest and neck.

Hermione prayed she didn't look as guilty as she actually was. "Oh, those," she said dismissively. "I was cleaning out some cupboards for Mrs. Weasley this morning and the dust must've gotten to me."

The werewolf raised an eyebrow, but said nothing else. "All right, well, I believe I'll go down to breakfast myself. I'll see you later on."

As soon as Remus had descended the staircase and was out of sight, Hermione dashed up the rest of the steps to her room and threw the door open, shutting it loudly behind her and trying not to giggle madly.

There was a high-pitched shriek and disgruntled mumbling as Ginny woke and knocked Harry to the floor with a thud.

"Oh my God, what time is it?" Ginny exclaimed, gathering the sheets around her and leaving a naked Harry to fend for himself on the cool wooden floor.

Hermione averted her eyes and grimaced. "Oh my… Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you guys…" She shuddered. "I'll just hop in the shower then?"

She walked quickly into their private bathroom, leaving Ginny very red and Harry with a small throw pillow covering his dangly bits.

* * *

A/N: Well, I hope you all enjoyed that! And this is only party (typo and it stays) one; the next parts will follow soon. Very soon, in fact, if encouraged by reviews (hint hint). Pointless as this fic may seem right now, it really is going somewhere!

I've been working on this story for quite some time, and I posted the original (UNCENSORED!!!) version on AFF. The link to my AFF profile is in my bio on this site – go check it out! (If you're of age, of course.) I really feel like I've butchered this story in censoring it, but hey, gotta keep it clean on this site. There's actually a lot less obscenity in this story (and all the others, for that matter) than you'd see in an R-rated film. Oh well. That's why I've got it on the other site. Enjoy, if you're of age!


	2. Getting to Know You

_Sleep is Overrated_

By Ange de Socrates

**Disclaimer:** J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., et al own Harry Potter. My deluded imagination and babbling are my own. I get no money for writing this, obviously.

_**WARNING: Rated M for a reason!**_

_Chapter Two – Getting to Know You_

* * *

It seemed like no one was in the mood to study after last night's massive blowout. Ginny was far too embarrassed about the incident earlier in the morning to want to go shopping, instead making an excuse about forgetting it was laundry day and then rushing off red-faced to collect all the clothes she could find that looked even marginally dirty.

Harry and Ron were feeling a bit of cabin fever on such a lovely mid-spring day, and they had only studied for seventeen minutes before they ditched the schoolwork to Apparate to Kent to play a pick-up game of Quidditch with some old schoolmates. Hermione was left alone to pick through her endless piles of essays and books.

After two hours of productivity, Hermione sighed. Unlike Harry and Ron, she was quite nearly prepared to take the NEWTs in a month, and felt only a tiny bit of remorse at taking a break from her studies. She stood from her chair in the library, stretched, and decided a trip to Diagon Alley would be much deserved.

Hermione left her work on the library table and wandered upstairs to her room to find her purse and a light sweater. Ginny was in the room folding her unnecessarily laundered clothes.

"Hey Hermione," she said, the tips of her ears going slightly pink as she paired her socks.

"Hi," Hermione said, pulling her purse out of the top drawer of her dresser. "Ginny, can I ask you a favor?"

"I promise I won't let Harry in here anymore," Ginny said quickly. "I only let him last night because he was just too pissed to make it to his room…"

"It's not that," Hermione interrupted with a giggle. "That's fine, I don't care if he's in here. Just… just warn me." She thought for a moment, pondering whether to confide in the redhead, and decided she could be trusted.

"I slept with Sirius," she said, turning red.

Ginny let out the highest-pitched squeal Hermione had ever heard. "You _didn't!_"

"Please don't tell Harry!" Hermione pleaded. "He was drunk, and I just needed to get my mind off school…"

"No worries," Ginny said with a lecherous grin. "Was he good?"

Hermione bit her lip, her heart fluttering. "Amazing."

Another squeal. "Lucky you!" Ginny paused. "So what's this favor? Is it to do with him?"

"A bit." Hermione was overjoyed to have another girl to confide in. "He told me not to make plans for tonight, and I thought maybe it would be nice to have something to wear that he hasn't seen before. And perhaps something for underneath if he's been good," she added with a smirk.

Ginny laughed. "So shall we go shopping after all?"

"If you're done with laundry."

The younger witch smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, done with that business." She stood and found her purse as well. "Marks and Spencer perhaps? I don't think Diagon Alley is going to have what you need."

Hermione shifted uncomfortably. "See, that's the thing. I don't know what I should wear. I mean, he didn't exactly tell me what he had planned for tonight."

Ginny shrugged. "You can't go wrong with a cute skirt and a killer pair of heels. Come on," she took Hermione's hand, "let's get you something he can't resist."

* * *

Hermione was growing rather tired of the misconception everyone seemed to have about her. After recounting in much steamier detail the events of the previous night and this morning, Ginny had confessed that she had no idea Hermione wasn't a virgin. Everybody tended to think she hadn't had the same hormonal development, the same urges as any other growing witch and wizard simply because she liked school.

Sex, just like everything else, was a skill that needed to be honed, a knowledge that required investigation. It held high potential for both success and for failure, and so Hermione had endeavored to learn everything she could about it from the moment she was legally entitled to.

Books could only go so far in this field. Knowledge had to be gained firsthand, much like brewing a complicated potion or transfiguring a doorknob into a raccoon. Hermione had experimented with her sexuality with old friends she hadn't seen since her pre-Hogwarts schooling and then bade them goodbye, careful to defend herself from unwanted consequences of said experimentation using both Muggle and wizarding protection. Until she met someone with whom it really meant something, sex remained just an investigatory experiment.

And Sirius just might be one of those someones.

Trying to mask her irritation as she examined a lacy red bra, Hermione sighed. "I've slept with a couple guys. Just to find out what it was all about, you see."

Ginny shrugged. "All right then." She pulled Hermione deeper into the lingerie. "Let's find something for the sex goddess you are!"

Hermione vetoed the first couple of garter sets Ginny held up, finding them far too promiscuous for, she realized with an ironic snort, a first date. If one could call it that.

The redhead shuffled through the racks, pulling out a black- and red-striped teddy. "More like this?"

Hermione regarded it thoughtfully. "Yeah, that's a bit more like what I was thinking. Something softer."

A glint of white lace caught her eye, and Hermione moved toward it. Pushing aside a violently pink bit of cloth, she found a white lace bustier and matching hip-riding panties.

Ginny appeared at her side and nodded approvingly. "Sexy yet soft. Perfect!"

Hermione regarded the underwear set with a practical eye. The part of the bustier that would be covering her breasts looked supportive enough to keep her back from aching, while the material that would be covering from rib to belly button was light and sheer.

"It's so odd, buying underwear with a particular person in mind." Hermione giggled. "I don't think I've ever done anything so… so…"

"Girly?" Ginny supplied. "You'll get used to it. Even enjoy it, I expect." She guided Hermione away from the lingerie section, the older witch still eyeing the lacy undergarments she held in her hands. "Off to the ladies' clothes!"

By the time they had finished at the store, Ginny had picked out a red pencil skirt that hit mid-thigh and a white satin short-sleeved blouse with a few ruffles down the front. Hermione happily surveyed her purchases once they had returned to Grimmauld Place and spread the purchases across her bed linens.

"Ginny, these look amazing," Hermione breathed, running a hand over the soft, smooth blouse. "You have quite an eye for fashion."

Ginny shrugged, looking pleased with herself. "I'm actually considering going into fashion once I'm done at Hogwarts," she admitted, smoothing out the skirt. "I mean, wizarding robes aren't terribly fashionable; I'm sure a few witches would appreciate a change of style."

Hermione groaned suddenly. "Shoes!" she exclaimed. "We forgot shoes!"

"No worries," Ginny said, remaining calm. "I brought about a hundred pairs of shoes here, just pick a pair and we can make them a bit smaller to fit you."

Ginny wasn't exaggerating. As Hermione surveyed the endless rows of shoes in her friend's closet, a strappy pair of four-inch red heels caught her eye. She plucked them out of the lineup and placed them on the bed next to her outfit.

"Do you think these will work?" she asked nervously. "And more importantly, do you think I'll be able to walk in these without breaking my neck?"

"Yes on both counts," Ginny said confidently, pulling out her wand to shrink the shoes to fit Hermione's slightly smaller feet. "It's really not as difficult as people like to think. It just takes a minute of walking in them to get your balance."

Indeed, after a couple minutes of staggering around the room in the adjusted heels, Hermione was nearly an expert at it.

"Thanks so much for everything," Hermione said affectionately, embracing the younger witch. "There's no way I could have done this on my own."

Ginny grinned. "It's all right. I owed you for the whole Harry fiasco." She giggled. "Do you need any help with makeup or hair?"

Hermione winced. "Gods yes. I completely forgot about the untamable mess on my head."

"Five o'clock?" Ginny suggested.

"Perfect."

Hermione bade her friend goodbye and went back down to the library to resume her schoolwork. She had just settled into her chair and stretched out her writing hand when a voice behind her scared her half-witless.

"Afternoon, Hermione."

The witch squeaked and turned around to see Remus stretched out on the sofa with a book.

"Oh, hello Remus," she said, putting a hand to her heart. "I'm sorry, I didn't even see you there."

Remus grinned and lay his book down on his chest. "Well, I do usually blend in, aside from the occasional fur-sprouting incidents." He eyed Hermione thoughtfully. "Still hard at work?"

Hermione nodded, gesturing toward the mounds of books and parchment that were spread before her. "Seems like seventh year was the worst one to have skipped."

The werewolf chuckled. "I'm sure you'll get through it. You always manage, you're absolutely brilliant."

Hermione blushed, trying to stay modest. "I do what I can."

Remus nodded, and something in the way he was watching her made her nervous. She gave him a friendly smile before turning to her work, and the crinkle of aged paper informed her that Remus had returned to his reading.

"Sirius seems to have taken a shine to you," Remus said suddenly after several minutes of silence.

Hermione froze, uncertain of what to say. "What kind of shine?" she finally managed to say, attempting to slow her heart rate.

"You don't have to hide it Hermione," Remus continued, still scanning his novel. "You're both adults."

The witch wasn't sure what to make of his implied acceptance. Ginny's unquestioning faith in the affair had been strange enough, and now Sirius' best friend was essentially giving her the green light.

"But Harry…"

"Has dealt with situations much direr that his godfather's social agenda," Remus finished, reminding Hermione of how Sirius had responded. "It's your life, so live and let live, I say."

Hermione frowned. "It's all just going so fast. I mean, two people have now given their blessing to a relationship that doesn't really exist yet. We haven't even had a date!" she exclaimed, exasperated.

Remus pursed his lips, seemingly amused. "If the whole Voldemort debacle taught me anything, Hermione, it's that you should enjoy what you have while you have it. So," he added, "enjoy it."

She considered his sage words. "It does make sense, I suppose. But it's not really a big deal yet…"

"Yet," Remus repeated. "But with Sirius, things get intense rather quickly. He's a passionate man, but I believe you're equally passionate, am I wrong?"

Hermione nodded, smiling. "So I've been told." She chuckled. "The happiness of a man in this life does not consist in the absence but in the mastery of his passions."

"Byron?"

"Tennyson."

"Ah, right."

The two fell into a comfortable silence again until Remus spoke once more.

"Oh, Hermione? I forgot that I'm supposed to inconspicuously find out what you're wearing tonight." He smiled roguishly. "Don't tell him I asked, will you?"

Hermione laughed. "I won't tell him." She pictured the outfit lying so crisp and new on her bed, deciding to leave a bit of mystery on her end, as Sirius hadn't even told her where they were going. "He'll just have to wait and see. But I can assure you," she continued, "that it's very chic."

Remus nodded. "Fair enough."

At five o'clock, Hermione and Ginny met in their room at Grimmauld Place to begin the task of preparing Hermione for her date. Hermione sat in a chair in front of the vanity, watching skeptically as Ginny began pulling mascara and lipstick out of her bag.

"You know, I don't think I want to wear too much makeup," Hermione said thoughtfully, examining her complexion in the mirror. "My skin's not spotted or splotchy, so..."

"Oh, don't worry," Ginny interjected as she decided between two cases of eye shadow. "I'm definitely not putting much on. You're already gorgeous, and hey, you've already shagged, so it's nothing he hasn't seen."

Hermione blushed a bright shade of crimson. "Oh gods, he thinks I'm loose."

Ginny snorted. "Hermione Granger? Loose? That's the absolute last word I'd pick to describe you." The redhead began dabbing rouge on the apples of Hermione's cheeks. "Bookworm, yes, overachiever, certainly, but definitely not loose."

Hermione watched as her face slowly transformed from plain and natural to, dare she say it, glam and sexy.

"Wow, Ginny, you really should do this kind of thing for a living," she remarked as she admired Ginny's finishing touches. "This looks so much better than what I did for the Yule Ball in fourth year."

It wasn't a lot of makeup, but it was enough to subtly make a difference. The light rouge and smoky eyes screamed sexy, and yet the simply glossed lips made the look seem very natural and low-maintenance.

"That ought to do it," Ginny agreed, swiping at a smudge in the eyeliner. "And now," she ran her hands through Hermione's hair, "this."

Ginny went into the bathroom for a minute and emerged with a bundle of hair care products, from gels and hairsprays to round brushes and metal clips. "This is going to be heavy duty."

She spritzed a conditioning spray liberally into Hermione's unruly curls. "You know, my hair is nearly as bad as yours when I wake up in the morning."

Hermione regarded her skeptically. "There's no way. Your hair's perfect!"

Ginny shrugged, tugging a paddle brush through Hermione's locks. "It's horrible -- it's all tangled and matted and smashed on one side of my head where it's been on the pillow. And that's why I have all this nonsense," she said, gesturing to her extensive hair product collection. "It doesn't take long to fix once you've got a routine."

"I tried keeping it tame once," Hermione remembered. "It really just took too much time, though. And I had so many other things to do besides bother with my hair."

"Well, now you're out of school, and you've got plenty of time to make it work," Ginny said, leaving no room for argument.

"But I still have NEWTs to..."

"Plenty of time," she repeated firmly. "And you've got me to help."

Hermione smiled, defeated. "All right, fine. I'll make it work."

It took much longer than the makeup, but after several different creams, waxes, mousses, and sprays, Ginny had worked Hermione's hair into a masterpiece of shining waves.

Hermione gawked at her reflection. "Merlin. I've just witnessed a miracle." She ran a hand through her unrecognizable hair. "It's so soft and light! It's like there's nothing in it!"

Ginny grinned triumphantly. "You want to know the secret?"

"Absolutely!"

"They're Muggle products," Ginny told her. "Wizarding ones are just too heavy. The Muggles have hair care figured out better than wizards. Same with fashion," she added with a grimace. "Which is why I see it as my duty to help witches and wizards who have only ever experienced the chuff you get at the dodgy kiosks in Diagon Alley."

Hermione stood and twirled around, admiring how her hair fanned out elegantly before falling immediately back into place. "And once you've set up shop, I promise I'll be your very first customer." She smiled into the mirror. "You've done it, Ginny. I'll never be able to go back to that rat's nest again."

Ginny whooped and laughed. "All right you, let's get your clothes on."

A knock at the door made both the girls squeak. Hermione glanced at the clock and gasped.

"Oh no, it's a quarter till seven! It must be him!" Hermione wasn't certain why she was so anxious, but she wanted to have her whole look together before Sirius saw her. After all, he had only seen her either tired or post-shag, never clean and put together.

Ginny walked to the door. "You just go behind the wall and start getting dressed. I'll handle this."

The younger witch waited until Hermione had disappeared into the nook in which the beds were placed before opening the door. "Oh, hey Sirius."

"Hey Ginny." Sirius looked over Ginny's shoulder into the room. "Is Hermione here?"

"Yep."

There was a pause.

Sirius laughed. "Can I borrow her?"

Another pause.

"Nope."

The wizard looked befuddled. "Well why not?"

Ginny looked him up and down appreciatively. "She's getting ready."

"Ah." Sirius shifted uncomfortably under Ginny's increasingly predatory gaze. "Well then, I'll just wait for her by the stairs if…"

"I'm ready!" Hermione called, slipping on her shoes and walking as steadily as she could to the door. "Thanks Gin, I'll see you later."

"Wouldn't count on it," Ginny mumbled as Hermione walked past. She giggled and shut the door.

Sirius gave an admiring grunt. "You look fantastic, Hermione," he told her, kissing her hand.

Hermione tried not to blush. She was just glad she was dressed accordingly, as Sirius had on dark jeans, a light blue tee shirt, and a black blazer.

"So where are we going?"

Sirius grinned mysteriously. "You'll see."

They walked downstairs and down the corridor without seeing a soul, as most everyone was in the basement kitchen for dinner.

It was a pleasant spring evening that greeted Hermione and Sirius as they stepped out of Grimmauld Place and into the street. Sirius had still given no indication of where they would be going, and the witch had feelings of both excitement and apprehension mingling unpleasantly in her stomach.

"Well?" Hermione asked as they walked side-by-side down the sidewalk.

Sirius smirked. "Well what?"

Hermione wrinkled her nose at him. "Where are you taking me?"

The wizard shrugged, still grinning. "You'll see. I promise you'll love it."

They continued down the sidewalk, which was surprisingly busy for a Thursday evening. It seemed all of London was out in full force to enjoy the warmth of the day in case the coming weeks brought a regression into chilly temperatures. They dodged several cyclists and joggers as well as a large baby carriage, the mother barely able to see over it as she had laden it not only with a child, but also with numerous shopping bags.

After a ten-minute walk, Sirius gestured at a gray stone building adjacent to an alley, whose rickety wooden door looked as though it had seen better days, and those days were probably several decades past.

"In you go."

* * *

A/N: Ah, part two! Just one more to go… Please feed the author – leave a review!

Remember to check this story out (if you're of age) at AFF. It's much better uncensored…


	3. Who'd Have Thought It?

_Sleep is Overrated_

By Ange de Socrates

**Disclaimer:** J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., et al own Harry Potter. My deluded imagination and babbling are my own. I get no money for writing this, obviously.

_**WARNING: Rated M for a reason!**_

_Chapter Three – Who'd Have Thought It?_

* * *

Sirius held open the door and placed his hand on the small of Hermione's back, maneuvering her into what appeared to be a dive bar.

Numerous wooden tables lined the right side of the large, open space, while a mahogany-finished bar took up most of the wall to the left, where a smattering of people were nursing drinks and chatting amongst themselves. The real crowd, however, was at the far end of the room, where a band appeared to be setting up for their show. Other than a few flickering lights over the bar and the stage, it was incredibly dark and smelled of cigarette smoke.

Hermione looked back at Sirius, who was eyeing her appraisingly.

"Just my kind of place," she told him truthfully, giving him a grin. He returned it and guided her to a table near to where twenty or so people had gathered around the slightly elevated stage upon which the band members were tuning guitars and adjusting the drum set.

"Drinks?" Sirius suggested.

"Perfect," Hermione agreed. "Let me give you some..."

"Ah ah," the wizard objected as Hermione rummaged around in her purse for a few quid. "A gentleman always pays for his lady."

Hermione flushed, not sure what to say. Sirius cupped her chin and gave her a chaste kiss before striding over to the bartender.

It seemed as though the excited feelings were finally winning the epic battle against the apprehensive ones. She sat down on one wooden chair with a bit of a silly grin and watched the band finish setting up as she waited for Sirius to return with drinks. There were only three members: a guitarist, a bassist, and a drummer.

It had been a long time since Hermione had been to a bar show, and now that she was there, she realized how much she missed it. Though she did enjoy listening to her parents' old vinyl records and the wizarding wireless, nothing could rival the raw energy and purity of a live show at an intimate venue.

Sirius sat down next to Hermione and pushed a bottle of beer in front of her. She glanced at the label and suddenly realized this was a regular Muggle bar.

"I didn't know you kept tabs on the local music scene," she commented, popping the cap off the beer on the edge of the table.

Sirius seemed impressed at Hermione's bottle-popping ability and followed suit with his, taking a large swig of it. "This band in particular has a special place in my heart. I try to catch them whenever they're around, though I've sometimes had to track them down across the pond."

The guitarist suddenly noticed Sirius and gave a small wave in his direction. Sirius nodded in return and then turned to watch Hermione intently.

It started as a slight ache in her stomach, but soon it grew into a burn that had her arms and legs tingling. She wanted him. Very, very badly.

A single chord strummed on the guitar was enough to make the crowd scream in excitement, and Hermione reluctantly turned her eyes from Sirius to watch the set, taking a drink from her beer. She felt a smile tug at her lips as she felt the wizard scoot closer, one arm settling around her waist from behind, the other still holding his beer.

The already dim lights were turned even lower as the guitarist with shaggy, dark brown hair began to sing. Hermione watched him contentedly, the music filling the bar so that all but the sounds of the screaming fans was drowned out.

"I know you're not asleep, I can feel you moving over there. You've been playing with the seam in your worn out underwear. My lips are raw as hell from biting on them just to stay awake. It's not like I'm gonna need them, you won't be around to see them bleed and break..."

Hermione jumped slightly as the bass and drums suddenly picked up, and the groupies at the stage screamed even louder.

"All that I do comes back to you, so I'll just think about you till there's nothing in my head. All I can do is try not to screw this up again and just be friends, I'd rather be dead."

Sirius rested his chin on Hermione's shoulder, and she shuddered slightly at the additional contact. The song, the light, the physical proximity... It was enough to make Hermione go mad with need.

"You like it?" he whispered, his lips brushing against her ear.

Hermione could only nod – she didn't trust herself to speak, afraid her voice would only come out as an unattractive squeak.

She moaned softly as his tongue caressed the skin at the junction of her jaw and earlobe, clutching hard at the beer bottle with one hand and the table with the other. She met him in a deep, slow kiss, the noise of the screaming fans and sultry song fading away, until…

"Hey lovebirds, got a request?"

Hermione's head snapped in the direction of the voice so quickly that she could've sworn she cracked her neck. Sirius laughed and inconspicuously dropped his hands lower.

"How about Mixtape?" he called up to the stage.

The guitarist grinned and nodded. "All right guys, let's do it."

As they launched into the next song, Hermione felt she would die of embarrassment. However, as the bar's patrons turned their attention back to the band, she got her flush under control and managed to even her breathing.

"Sorry," Sirius whispered. "Couldn't keep my hands to myself."

Hermione turned in her chair and planted another searing kiss on his lips. "Funny. Neither can I," she whispered back, smiling impishly before turning back to the musicians.

How they managed to make it through the show without shagging in a bathroom or dark corner, Hermione wasn't sure. It wasn't at all because she disliked the music; as a matter of fact she quite enjoyed it and would certainly be back for another show as well as buy any records the band had put out.

But Sirius Black… He was simply irresistible.

As they emerged from the dive bar into the night, Hermione realized the air had cooled considerably. She shivered slightly and was pleasantly surprised when Sirius took his blazer off without hesitation and wrapped it around her shoulders.

"Thanks," she said, smiling gratefully. "Clothes like these aren't exactly practical."

"But they look bloody amazing," Sirius retorted, kissing the top of Hermione's head as he took one of her hands in his.

Hermione's stomach did a tiny back flip. They were holding hands, walking down the street and heading home after a date. Were they a…

"So I've been thinking," Sirius said as they walked back toward Grimmauld Place, stepping around the groupies that had gathered on the sidewalk to wait for the band. "I know it's only been, what, a day?" He hummed thoughtfully. "Wow."

Hermione nodded. "I know. Seems like longer."

The wizard stopped suddenly after clearing the groupies. "Look, I won't pretend I know how these things are supposed to work, but I think at some point exclusivity becomes an issue."

Hermione stared at him. "You want to be… a couple?" she said, finishing the thought he had interrupted a few moments earlier. "Exclusively?"

She had never seen his composure falter like this before, and it was slightly unnerving to say the least.

"Only if you want to. I know it's soon, and I'm probably freaking you out, but I just don't want to…"

The witch stopped him with a quick kiss. "You're rambling."

Sirius grinned sheepishly. "Sorry. I do that a lot."

Hermione laughed. And then she considered the unanswered question lingering between them. The flutter in her stomach when she saw him, the amazing sex, the way he looked after her, the happiness she hadn't felt in so long…

There really wasn't much to consider after all.

"Let's do this, then. The relationship thing, I mean," she added needlessly.

Sirius' eyes suddenly seemed brighter and he transitioned smoothly back into his usual demeanor. "Great, cool!" He let out a deep breath. "Gods, that was an awkward conversation. Home then?"

"Home," Hermione agreed, giggling. His grip on her hand was much tighter and more assured as they walked through the darkness to his ancestral abode.

Once they reached Grimmauld Square, Sirius murmured, "The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at 12 Grimmauld Place." The house slowly pushed its way between numbers 11 and 13, and Sirius pulled the door open for Hermione.

Though it was past eleven o'clock, the house was still bustling with activity. The twins could be heard creating explosions and subsequent odd aromas in the drawing room, undoubtedly a Wheezes project. A couple of some Order member's young children, perhaps six or seven years old, were chasing each other through the hallways on miniature broomsticks, giggling delightedly. The door to the kitchen was open, and Mrs. Weasley's latest baking endeavor had managed to mostly disguise the smell of whatever the twins were cooking up.

As people moved through the hallway talking amongst themselves, time seemed to freeze for Sirius and Hermione. It was as if everyone else was going in slow motion, voices muffled and people blurred.

"You want to go somewhere quiet?" Sirius asked in a low tone. Hermione nodded and, taking his hand, followed him upstairs to the fourth floor. However, instead of continuing down to Sirius' room once they had reached the landing, the wizard turned, wrapped his arms around Hermione's waist, and Disapparated away from Grimmauld Place.

Hermione hadn't been expecting the Apparation at all and was incredibly confused when they reached their apparent destination. They were standing in what appeared to be the unlit entrance hall of a large flat.

"Welcome to my home," Sirius murmured, not taking his hands from Hermione's waist.

"I thought Grimmauld Place was your home," she replied, her eyes adjusting to the dark.

Sirius snorted. "Certainly not. Never was, never will be." He walked down the hall and into a room on the right, taking Hermione with him.

The room was immersed in light as Sirius hit a switch, and Hermione found herself in a large kitchen. Sirius walked to the counter against the far wall and dug in the cabinet beneath it, emerging with a bottle of whiskey and two lowball glasses. He filled them halfway with ice and poured the whiskey over it.

"I bought this place a couple years ago and kept it in Remus' name," he explained, pushing one glass across the island counter to Hermione. "And since the Ministry came to their senses and realized I was innocent, I've switched it to my name and spent most nights and weekends here."

Hermione took a large sip of the whiskey. "So that's where you disappear to," she said thoughtfully.

Sirius picked up his glass and walked across the room to stand behind Hermione, once again slipping an arm around her chest, his lips grazing gently over her neck.

The witch shuddered and let her eyes fall shut, moaning softly as his mouth ghosted over her tender skin. Whiskey forgotten on the counter, she turned in his embrace and pressed her lips onto his lower neck, biting down gently at first and a bit harder when he growled appreciatively.

Hermione shrugged off Sirius' blazer and began walking him back out into the hallway, hoping she would be able to navigate him into the bedroom. Luckily he took the hint and scooped her off her feet, carrying her into another room on the far left.

Not bothering to turn on a light, Sirius deposited her on a bed covered with a plush scarlet duvet and several gold pillows. He stepped away for a moment to light a couple of candles, whose sandalwood scent wafted toward Hermione's nose.

Once the candles were lit, Sirius reached into a cabinet at the end of the bed and pulled out an old vinyl album. He placed it on a turntable on the mahogany dresser and turned it on, the sound of Eric Clapton's magic fingers filling the room.

Appreciative though she was for the mood music and lighting, Hermione was becoming rather impatient. She slipped off the bed and walked to where Sirius stood admiring her, and then gently pushed him back on the edge of the bed.

Her shirt tossed to the floor, Hermione proceeded to crawl up Sirius' body, caressing his smooth chest as she bent down to trace the line of his jaw with her tongue. He growled lustily and pulled at the back of her thighs to bring her closer.

Hermione pulled back and slid down so that she could unbutton his jeans and tug them off, joining her shirt in a pool on the floor. His black boxers soon followed, and Hermione smiled smugly at Sirius' intake of breath.

The wizard rolled her over gently, brushing his lips against hers and kissing along her bra line. Reaching behind her, he unclasped the bra and pulled the material over her head.

Sirius' strong hands roamed tenderly over Hermione's body, as if he were trying to memorize each curve and crevice. She licked her lips, hungry for more contact as the sandalwood candles and soft music increased her need.

With a fiery kiss, Sirius nudged her legs apart and slid into Hermione's core. She gave a throaty moan and lifted her hips up to increase the contact. He gave a guttural groan, picking up his pace but still savoring each plunge with a look of unadulterated bliss.

Between the deep, perfectly angled thrusts, the romantic atmosphere, and Sirius' eyes smoldering into her own, Hermione knew she wouldn't last long. Her hips and legs began to tremble as her orgasm built up inside her. After a few seconds of Hermione's muscles fiercely milking him, Sirius came with a cry that he stifled in Hermione's lips.

Hermione smiled sleepily as she relished the weight of Sirius' body on top of her own. She rubbed his back tenderly as they both came down off their high and let their furiously pumping hearts slow down to normal.

Sirius rolled slowly but carefully off Hermione, reluctant to lose the warmth of her body under his own, and quickly enveloped her in his arms against his chest.

The witch sighed happily and snuggled her head into the crook of her lover's neck, too sleepy to move as Sirius pulled the duvet over their warm, damp bodies. He kissed her forehead and whispered, "Goodnight."

Too exhausted to even speak, she simply squeezed him tighter and tried to get as close as possible to his body without performing some kind of spell to melt into or fuse with him. She fell asleep with him softly stroking her temple with a loving thumb.

* * *

The sun had just barely risen above the horizon when Hermione woke up the next morning. With a small yawn, she removed herself from Sirius' chest and got out of bed, shivering at the cool morning air on her naked body. Sirius continued to sleep peacefully, and instead of waking him to ask where the bathroom was, she set out to find it herself.

There was a door on her side of the bed, and Hermione quietly opened it to find a large bathroom, complete with a glass-door shower with a bench, an eight-jet bathtub, and, of course, a toilet and sink. The witch found the linen closet next to the sink and pulled out a fluffy blue towel, feeling it would be a bit presumptuous to use the ones hanging on the rod over the toilet.

She walked to the shower, the white tile floor chilly beneath her bare feet, and turned on the warm water before hanging her towel over the glass wall and stepping inside.

Though she had tried to make it a quick enough shower to be able to crawl back under the covers when she finished, Hermione stepped back into the bedroom to find the bed empty and made up again. Frowning, she pulled on her clothes from the previous night and, praying that her hair wasn't horrifically bushy again, walked out of the bedroom and into the hallway.

Sirius wasn't hard to find - the smell of sizzling bacon, eggs, and toast led Hermione straight into the kitchen, where she found the wizard cooking breakfast in just a pair of jeans.

"Morning," he greeted, kissing her deeply before returning to the bacon. "Sleep well?"

"Very," Hermione said, watching him cook. He didn't really seem the cooking type; she had assumed Kreacher or Mrs. Weasley did all of the cooking. "I hope you don't mind that I borrowed your bathroom. I had to get the smell of smoke out of my hair."

"Not at all," Sirius said cheerfully. "You always smell good to me, though."

Hermione smiled bashfully and sat on a stool at the island counter. Sirius pushed a few pieces of bacon and a hearty pile of toast and eggs onto two plates, set one in front of Hermione, and took the other to the stool next to her, onto which he hoisted himself.

"Thanks for cooking," Hermione said as she constructed a sandwich out of the foodstuffs. "Thanks for everything, actually."

Sirius smiled and shrugged modestly. "I'm glad you gave me a chance. I mean, I know I don't have the best reputation, but…" He shrugged again. "Anyway, I'm just glad you're here."

Hermione blushed and focused intently on the breakfast sandwich she had started. "Well, it isn't as if I hadn't wondered… Er, that is, I've always thought…" She turned an even brighter shade of red, and out of the corner of her eye she could see Sirius smirking at her obvious discomfort. "I'vealwaysfanciedyouabit," she finally blurted out, snapping a piece of bacon rather enthusiastically.

Sirius laughed and kissed her cheek. "Well, that was sufficiently awkward," he said, getting back to his food. "That's enough confessions for now, I think."

"Agreed," Hermione said, finally allowing herself a sheepish smile.

* * *

The next few months, while a bit hectic, were quite enjoyable. In fact, Hermione thought they were the best time she had had since her fifth year at Hogwarts, when Umbridge's tyrannical rule had darkened the school's days.

In late May, she, Harry, and Ron had belatedly sat their NEWTs and Hermione had, of course, earned the highest scores Hogwarts had ever churned out. Even Harry and Ron had received very decent grades, which finally allowed them to complete their Auror training. The two boys were almost always at the training facility, and most of their free time was spent sleeping, eating, or playing Quidditch.

Harry proposed to Ginny in mid-June, much to the delight of the Weasley clan, though Ron seemed a bit weirded-out at the idea of his best friend becoming his brother-in-law. Ginny, who had always felt a bit smothered by the number of kin she had, and Harry, who had always felt his family lacking, compromised on a wedding with only immediate family and very close friends in attendance.

Sirius and Hermione had continued their under-the-radar romance, their dates ranging from wings and wine at local pubs to trips to St. Tropez to soak up the rays at the beach. Though they made no real effort to conceal the relationship, their observation of the pressure of Harry and Ginny's engagement and their worry over everyone's reaction to the May-December affair convinced them to try to be discreet. However, a few days before Harry's birthday, Ron blew their secret out of the water.

He had been moping about the house since Harry and Ginny's engagement, presumably since he didn't have a love life of his own and his famous best friend was once again upstaging him. The redhead had approached Hermione in a tipsy haze in an attempt to win her back, since their sordid affair had ended on a slightly sour note after Voldemort's fall. To make a long story short, Hermione had ultimately ended up hexing Ron with boils in an unpleasant area and telling him she had a real man now.

Needless to say, the news had spread like wildfire throughout the house and the Order. Harry had been shocked, though not upset; Ron had thrown Sirius scathing looks whenever they met; Ginny and Remus were nonplussed; and everyone else really didn't pay it any mind. Mrs. Weasley had looked less than enthused but seemed unwilling to risk yet another grudge between herself and Sirius.

Reflecting on the revealing of their relationship while snuggled against Sirius on the library couch, Hermione decided it made cuddle time much more abundant now that they didn't have to find a relatively quiet place in which to do it.

"Sirius," Hermione piped up, setting her book aside.

"Mm?" Sirius continued scanning his newspaper, his left hand absently stroking Hermione's shoulder.

"I love you."

"I love you too." He squeezed her closer to him. "What's on your mind?"

Hermione pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Let's go somewhere."

"Anywhere in particular?"

"Somewhere cold."

Sirius finally looked up from the paper. "Cold?"

Hermione nodded. "It's too hot here in July. Plus, just think of all the time we'll have to spend alone in front of the fire to keep warm," she added suggestively. "All alone, in a cabin on a mountain, with a plush rug by the fireplace…"

The wizard hummed appreciatively. "I think that's a brilliant idea," he said, tossing his paper onto the floor and kissing Hermione warmly. "Go grab whatever you'll need, and I'll call up an old friend in Greenland."

No one saw Hermione or Sirius for a week, but with a wedding to plan, the house was busy enough that no one took much notice. However, when the two finally did return, they all noticed several things.

The couple had snow in their hair. They were carrying fur-lined parkas and magazines written in Danish. And Hermione had a large chunk of ice on her ring finger and a gigantic smile on her face.

* * *

A/N: Well, I certainly hope you all had fun reading this bit of fluff! It was a bunny that haunted me for weeks, so I simply had to feed and indulge it.

Please review; I'm a bit needy :-)

And remember, check my AFF page if you're of age to read a much better version of this story!

Thanks to all of you who have already reviewed – I love you all so much! I love to write, and I love knowing that other people love that I love to write. Complicated, yes, but true. Bottom line: thank you for reading!


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